“I want to die,” I said, gripping down onto my scalp.
Louis lifted his head from his desk, “What? Harry, why?”
I sighed, fixing my curls, “Life just isn’t cut out for me.”
Louis rushed over to me and cradled me in his arms, “Please, darling. Don’t go. You don’t want to die. You shouldn’t die, or kill yourself. Life gets better, I promise.”
I shook my head, and leaned against his warm chest.
“Why do you want to die?”
“My life is horrible.”
“My life isn’t so great either,” he responded, “what if I told you I want to die?”
I yanked my head up and looked into his eyes, “No.”
“Why not?”
“I love you,” I whispered in his arms.
He smiled at me, “Then you shouldn’t go.”
“No one cares about me. No one loves me-“ I was cut off.
“Baby, I love you. I care for you.”
“I’m worthless though. I’m a piece of shit.”
“You are not worthless, nor are you a piece of shit.”
“Oh, but I am. That’s where you’re wrong. Last time I checked, a piece of shit is worth nothing and is ugly- therefor- I’m a piece of shit,” I explained.
“Harry, no. Your life is worth just as much as mine.”
“No it’s not,” I mumbled.
“Why?”
“Your life is perfect. You have a family that loves and cares for you. They cherish you with all their hearts. You have a job that pays well, and three friends who hang out with you. I have no friends- except you, of course. I feel that isn’t enough for me. I’m sorry, but my family isn’t as loving and caring as yours. They practically think I’m dirt. They kick me around, and throw me out. They hate me because of who I am,” I said, a tear falling down my cheek.
Tears were welling up in Louis’ eyes, and my heart melted. He wiped the single tear away with the pad of his thumb,
“Who are you then?” He asked, choking slightly.
“I’m a piece of shit. I’m dirt on the ground that people step on, and kick around. You could say that sometimes I’m a sand castle. I get built up, and am strong for a little while. Then someone, or something, comes along and knocks me down again. I’m ugly, and gay. Who wants to love and care for someone who is gay, and ugly?”
“Harry. I’m gay-“
“You are?”
“Yes. My family still loves me, and I’m gay. It’s okay to be gay. I love you, Harry-“
“But-“
“But what? I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to keep you, and love you. You aren’t alone anymore. I’m here.”
I sighed, “I hope you don’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
Somehow, I don’t believe him.
